Moon slices sharp shadows. Hugo fiddles with his jacket. Halloween bass thumps from Thomas’s house. Too crowded. Fake laughs. We bolt for quiet. Gravel crunches underfoot. Municipal cemetery straight ahead. Tombs line up like soldiers. Bushes whisper.
I’m Élodie. Lawyer by day. Briefcases, courtrooms, power suits. Night? Secret Heroine. Pulsing urges claw under my skin. Control freak in heels. Tonight, I drop the mask.
The Mutation
Cape from the costume pile drapes my shoulders. ‘Sure this is smart?’ I ask. Hugo grins, nervous. ‘Nope. But quieter.’ Gate swings silent. Chrysanthemums sting the air. Cold dirt. Wax ghosts.
Flashlight hits her stone. Louise. 1896-1917. Twenty-one. Dead over a century. Hugo pours mead at the base. Warm burn down my throat. ‘To Louise,’ he toasts. ‘Who asked nothing. And us, who can’t behave.’ Liquid pools, glints around a white candle. Wick perfect.
Cold climbs my ankles. I grab his arm. Warmth. Alive. He points to the mossy mausoleum. Inside, damp clings. Mold breath. Names bulge on walls. Epitaphs fade.
He shuts the door. Phone flash cuts dark. I slap my hand over his mouth. ‘Shh.’ Palm lingers. Eyes lock. Cape slides off. Hits stone. I sit. Cross legs. Stockings snag dim light.
‘You think fucking in a graveyard shields the living?’ His eyes widen. Candles flicker. Dust motes dance. Bugs trapped in wax. He takes my hand. Awkward lip brush. Giggles pull us close. Deeper kiss. Heat blooms. Stone chill fades.
Pulsing starts. Mask cracks. I grip his shirt. Rip open. ‘Vampire. Bite already.’ Guide his palm under fabric. Fingers hesitate. I arch. Nipple hardens between them. Breath cracks on stone. Hand slides cool ass curve. Nails rake neck. Lips latch throat.
I’m alive. Power surges. No more hiding.
His mouth trails lower. Kiss teases bite. I yank hair. Pull back. ‘Don’t stop.’ Fear spikes palms. Tongues. Breath races.
I stretch on cape. Arms up. Offer myself. Drip echoes. Water clock. Ticking our frenzy.
He enters. Sudden. Shared shock. Stone gone. Bodies weld. Heat new. His palm digs hip. Bruise promise. Shadows jerk rhythm. Honest thrusts. Mausoleum sanctuary. Dead watch mute. Car hums distant. Dies in cypresses.
Pause. Forehead to shoulder. I kiss mouth corner. Wipe lipstick smear. Air shimmers.
‘Feel that?’ ‘What?’ ‘They’re listening.’ ‘Everything listens. Let’s perform.’ Candle snuffs.
Not me. ‘Someone’s studying.’ Dark swallows. Bar light grids us. Silence sweet. We dive blind. ‘There.’ ‘Like that.’ Gasps laugh short.
Drip stops. I freeze. ‘Hear?’ Leaf rustle outside. Bell cracks. No church near.
The Exploit
Door sighs. Stockings snag. Filament runs. Fuck it. Moon breaks cloud. Bar glow. Dead wick reignites. I ramp harder. Bite lip bloody. Muffle scream. Fear waking engravings. Back bows. Thighs clamp him vise. He chokes breath. Shatters. We quake. Pulse hammers. Wax sweat stench.
Outside, wing beat. Raven?
‘Heard,’ he drifts. ‘Or too loud.’ We pant. Adjust. I rise. Cheeks flame. Eyes steel.
Out. Moon shifted. Gravel eats steps. Tombs pass. Names dates blur.
Louise’s grave. Ribbon gleams. Wax circle perfect. O ring. Center: dark L.
‘Louise?’ ‘L for leave us.’ His palm near. Cold rays. Gooseflesh.
‘Wick intact.’ ‘Mead. But this?’ We stare geometry. Engine fades. Cemetery breathes.
He smears L. Grabs wrist gentle. ‘Go.’ ‘Thanks,’ I say. To who?
Wind stirs branch. Gate sings. Street reclaims. Orange lamps. Trash. Scooter sprawl.
‘My place?’ ‘Not tonight.’ Smile pure. Soft.
Home. Light off. Not my finger? Smile dark. No music needed. Chrysanthemum wafts. Louise. Twenty-one cutoff. Maybe missed this fire.
Next day. Hugo checks grave. Flowers nudged. Circle cold. L faint. New candle. Bell tolls. Gate moans.
Evening. His place. Pasta. Laughs. No mausoleum talk.
Back to suits. Clients. Verdicts. But inside? Secret burns. Stronger. Ghosts approve. Power mine. Dead envy.